Choices & Changes
by zsp
Summary: What if Jamie hadn't died? An alternate universe Glenbogle c. 1990.
1. Chapter 1

_**Choices & Changes**_

**I don't own or claim ownership of **_**Monarch of the Glen**_** or any of it's characters, plotlines, etc., nor am I making money off of them.**

**They are the wonderful creation and property of BBC Scotland and Ecosse Films.**

**Please let me know what you think, and/or any errors you've identified. I love reading reviews and use them to better my writing=)**

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><p><span><strong>Part 1<strong>

**Chapter 1**

"I don't know if this is a good idea," Lexie said, biting her lip as the vehicle bounced along the gravel road.

"Well, it's too late to turn back now," Archie said bemusedly.

Lexie opened her mouth to protest, but Archie beat her to it.

"Just wait until you see the place at least. Hmm?"

She sighed heavily, then nodded. For some reason, when Archie looked at her that way, there was no gainsaying him.

It was the oddest thing. With her good looks and her inherited flirtation skills, Lexie normally had little problem getting her way with men. But something about the man next to her was different, special. She was under some sort of spell; if he'd asked her to run clear to Inverness and back barefoot, she just might have done it, if it meant that she went up just a bit in his opinion of her.

She turned to Archie, her eyes penitent.

"I'm sorry, it's just, I'm nerv-"

The range rover had turned a corner, exposing a stunning view.

There through the trees could be seen a grey castle, many-turreted, with a wide lawn, and glistening lake behind it. In the distance the outlines of mountains could be seen.

"How do you like it?"

"Oh Arch, I don't know what to say!"  
>"Yeah, I know. It could use some patching up. A bit soggy too. Lots of midges after a rain or in the evening."<p>

"No, no, it's wonderful! It's like a fairy tale come true!"

Archie looked at Lexie, and then back at the castle.

A smile appeared on his face.

"Just wait until you see the _inside_."

A light came on in Lexie's eyes.

"Are there like lots of antlers and tapestries and centuries-old maces lying about?

"Oh yes, plenty of those."

"And its all fine with the family and everything, this visit?"

"Of course. Why wouldn't it be?"

Lexie bit her lip again. She could think of more than one reason.

"See, they're even coming out to welcome us."

Sure enough, as the land rover pulled to a sliding halt in front of the enormous house, a small group of people hustled out the front door to meet them.

At the forefront was a smiling young man with golden hair, skinny but good-looking, dressed to the hilt in kilt and associated gear.

As Archie helped Lexie out of the vehicle, the young man walked over to greet them. A smile burst on Archie's face, and the two embraced.

"Lexie," Archie said, pointing to the young man.

"I'd like you to meet my brother Jamie, future Chief of the MacDonalds and Laird of Glenbogle."

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

_I don't own or claim ownership of Monarch of the Glen or any of its characters, plotlines, etc., nor am I making money off of them._

_They are the wonderful creation and property of BBC Scotland and Ecosse Films._

**Feel free to let me know what you think! I love reading reviews and keep them in mind when I write=)**

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><p><span><strong>Chapter 2:<strong>

**6 months earlier (June 1990) Glasgow, Scotland**

"You're right. This is delicious Lex."

"Told you, my wee man," Lexie replied, her eyes a bit envious.

"Would you like some?" Archie offered, noticing the expression. Lexie reluctantly averted her gaze from the pastry Archie was holding.

"No, no, I already got half a loaf at home to eat. Don't want to ruin my appetite," she said, laughing nervously.

Archie's expression quickly changed from pleasure to concern.

"Have you got something to go with that?"

"Oh I'll probably round up some spread," she replied, knowing full well she had only a single, stale slice and no spread at home-a fact she had been agonizing about all day.

Archie frowned. He had of course heard of people going without-indeed he knew that some of his father's tenants only made it through on leftovers from the Big House. But never had he been up close to poverty or hunger in this kind of way. Here this beautiful, kind, intelligent young woman worked long hours, at a bakery of all places, and yet she barely had enough to sustain herself, if even that.

"That settles it."

"That settles _what_,Mr. Know-it-all?"

"Actually it's _MacDonald_. I'll have you know, _Ms. McTavish _that I come from a long and distinguished family line. My father is a laird..."

"A _what_?"

"A laird...you know...kind of like a lord, but Scottish and minus the seat in Parliament."

Lexie raised her eyebrows flirtatiously.  
>"Right <em>Mr. Laird<em>..."

"Actually, that's my father, Hector."

Lexie bit her lip to keep from laughing out loud.

"As I was saying..." she began. Suddenly she looked confused. "What is it you were saying...?"

"You're coming to dinner with me."

"_Is that right_?"

Lexie made a gesture like she was taking something out of her pocket, than flipping through pages.

"Um...nope...nothing here in my diary about a dinner date with a nervy aristocrat named MacDonald from the Highlands. Must have another penniless waif in mind."

"Lexie, I didn't mean it like that."

"Oh didn't you?"  
>"No."<p>

"I don't want your _charity,_ Arch."

"It's not charity. No pity. No strings attached. I'd just like to take you for a bite to eat."

"And perhaps a bit afterwards too?"

"No, I wouldn't do that."

Lexie felt her will to resist giving way.

"I can take care of myself."

"Lexie, I won't leave until you agree to come with me."

"Better make yourself comfy," she replied, arms akimbo. "You'll be here a long time."

Archie closed his eyes and smelled the air.

"Mmmmm, smells good in here, doesn't it?"

"Archie!"

"Maybe just one more pastry won't do me any harm."

"Fine!" Lexie conceded sulkily. "What culinary establishment will you be manhandling me to tonight?"

Archie looked down at his watch.

"Arch?"

"Follow me!"

With that, Archie grabbed her hand and yanked her out the door, before she could utter a word in protest.

**_To be continued..._**

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

_I don't own or claim ownership of Monarch of the Glen or any of its characters, plotlines, etc., nor am I making money off of them._

_They are the wonderful creation and property of BBC Scotland and Ecosse Films._

**Feel free to let me know what you think! I love reading reviews and keep them in mind when I write=)**

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><p><span><strong>Chapter 3:<strong>

_"Just hand over the __spondoolies*, son."_

_"I'll do no such thing."_

_"You will or I'll give you a doin', ya gallus bampot*!"_

_"I'd like to see you try. My forefathers whipped the Sassenachs at Bannockburn! I think I can whip your sorry-"_

_"'Ey! What's going on here?"_

_"Mind your own business woman! This don't involve you!"_

_"'That's Lexie you're talking too! Me and her's kin, on the father's side!"_

_"Shut your mouth Jimmy! Look...lady...I don't mean no disrespect, but this jobby's* got it in for him. So why don't you just go run along so you don't have to sully your eyes, aye?"_

_"What's he done to you?"_

_"I told you lady...!"_

_"It's just that...  
>"What?"<em>

_"Robbin' one of Big Tom's ain't wise, if you're asking me."_

_"I wasn't."_

_"Big Tom?"_

_"Aye, they're kin."_

_"But Big Tom's skint*. And this fellah..."_

_"Oh? How do you think Big Tom bought that storefront?"_

_"Look...Bobby...I don't want any problems with Big Tom."_

_"No...me neither."_

_"I'm out."_

_"Look's like you're free to go this time ya wee sook*. But you better stay clear of us, or next time, I might deal with you in a different way."_

_"So, is taking a wee stroll through the dark, dank, dangerous alleyways of The Gorbals,** your idea of a fun afternoon...?"_

_"Archie. And I was only cutting through that one alleyway...what was your name again?"_

_"Lexie. Bobby was right. Yurra bampot."_

_"I'll take that as a compliment. Nothing risked, nothing gained."_

_"And what exactly are you hoping to gain?"_

_ "Well, I was trying to find a bakery..."_

_"Oh?"_

_"Tom's Bakery. I don't suppose..."_

_"Yes, Big Tom owns Tom's Bakery. And _yes_, I can take you there."_

_"Lex you're a sweetheart."_

_"Don't get your panties all in a bow, mister! I work there don't I?"_

_"Oh, right. So I'll get free food then?_

_"Don't push it!"_

_"Lex?"_

_"I said don't push it!"_

"Lexie?"

Lexie woke up with a start. She could feel the warmth on the side of her face that had been lying on the hard bus seat.

"Oh...Archie."

"Sorry to wake you Lex, but this is our stop."

"Right. Sorry!"

Lexie groggily got to her feet and stumbled off the bus after Archie.

Once she got her wits about her, she looked around. A sprinkling of old and new buildings surrounded her. Down the road, she could make out a medieval looking stone clock tower."

"That's Tolbooth Steeple, " Archie told her, pointing to the tower.

"Aye. I always thought it looked kind of funny sitting all alone in the middle of Glasgow Cross."***

"It used to be part of the old City Chambers 'til they burned down in the 1920's. This area used to be the heart of old Glasgow, you know."

Lexie nodded, and smiled mischievously. Archie was intelligent, knowledgeable, quick-witted, but not snooty. She knew enough of men to know that that was a rare trait.

"Sorry, I fell asleep on you in there."

"Don't worry, it happens alot."

"I suppose there is something about busses that makes you drowsy."

"Um...yes...I suppose that's true..."

"_But_..."

"It's nothing, really."

"_Archie!_ You've got me curious now."

"Well, people, they fall asleep on me."

Lexie laughed out loud.

"What do you mean?"

"Just what I said. I suppose my voice is a tad bit boring. And I tend to talk about cooking all the time."****

Lexie frowned.

"Don't say that Arch! You have a very nice voice. And I really didn't mind all the talk about cooking. I'm a fair cook myself, when I have the right materials."

"And oh so modest about it!"

They both laughed, as Archie led the way into a small shop with a counter and a few tables and chairs here and there.  
>Archie ordered and they sat down.<p>

"So, Archie, how did you hear about Tom's little bakery. I mean, we don't see _toffs*_ like you everyday."

"I am not a _toff!_"

"_Sure._"

"I'm studying for my Master's in Culinary Arts at the University of Glasgow. I heard about Tom's from a friend."

Lexie raised her eyebrows. *****

"_Toff_."

Archie smiled and shrugged.

"It's not like I can help it or anything. And my family actually isn't all that rich."

Lexie rolled her eyes.

"Well...comparatively speaking."

There was a cry from the counter, signaling that their food was ready.

As Archie went up to the counter to retrieve it, Lexie studied the decor.

Little knick-knacks, obviously meant to represent life in the Highlands, were scattered throughout the place. A large, worn-looking Scottish flag drooped across one wall.

She wondered what it must be like to live in a grand old house, filled with obscure antiques and surrounded by barren moors and groves of towering Scots Pines.

"Archie," she inquired, as he arrived back at the table. "You said you were a laird or something right?"

"Well, my father is. And my brother, Jamie, will be, some day."

"So do you guys have a big estate with like, lots of land, and serfs and servants scurrying about here and there?"

Archie smiled, "Yes. we do actually. My family owns an estate called Glenbogle in Strathspey. And we do have tenants-almost the whole village of Glenbogle pays rent to us, in fact- but not too many servants these days. Oh, and we have a castle."

Lexie's eyes lit up.

"Get out!"

"No really. Our Victorian forefathers built it, to look like a sort of fairy tale castle."

"I thought only the National Trust owned castles these days."

"You're not far off. I love Glenbogle, but it's a real money pit. The place is in a bit of a shambles. Shaky electricity, rusted pipes, crumbling stonework. And we've let go of most of our staff. We're down to just four now, I think. It's too bad really."

"Yeah, it must be horrible not having a professional shoe shiner in the house," Lexie teased.

"No, I mean, the estate used to employ almost a hundred people. Now half of them are on the dole."

He frowned.

"That really is too bad," Lexie replied, a sad smile on her face.

Archie might be a toff, but at least he had a heart.

"But enough about Glenbogle and its problems. How do you like your soup?"

Lexie looked down at the steaming mass of cabbage and meat that Archie had set before her with apprehension.

The stuff smelled absolutely revolting.

But it had been very generous of Archie to buy her dinner, so she decided to give it a shot.

"Mmmm...this stuff is good. What is it called?"

Archie smiled.

"Crofter's Stew."

Lexie made a face.

"Does that mean they put hairy old farmers in it?"

"That and penniless Glaswegian girls."

"Aye," Lexie said, with a mischievous grin. "Good thing I got a fiver in my pocket."

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><p><em>*Spondoolies =money; gallus=arrogant; bampot=idiot; jobby=turd; skint=poor; sook=softie; toff=rich person (derogatory)<em>

_**The Gorbals is a traditionally tough neighborhood in Glasgow, due in large part to an evacuation of industry and huge multi-story housing projects. Like many of Glasgow's tougher neighborhoods, since the mid-1990's The Gorbals has been significantly cleaned up and seen an influx of new investment._

_***Glasgow Cross is a major intersection in Glasgow's City Centre, with no less than 5 roads leading from it._

_****While riding back on the train with Lexie (in what is the first real romantic scene between the two), Lexie dozes off almost as soon as Archie starts relating his problems. with his girlfriend Justine. Archie then quips that "I often have that effect on women..."_

_*****The University of Glasgow is one of the most prestigious universities in the world._

_**To be continued...**_

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!<strong>


	4. Chapter 4

_I don't own or claim ownership of Monarch of the Glen or any of its characters, plotlines, etc., nor am I making money off of them._

_They are the wonderful creation and property of BBC Scotland and Ecosse Films._

**Feel free to let me know what you think! I love reading reviews and keep them in mind when I write=)**

* * *

><p><span><strong>Chapter 4:<strong>

Lexie could taste the unpleasant, salty tang of blood in her mouth. Her tongue quickly identified the source. She'd been biting down hard on her lower lip, as she often did when she was anxious and nervous.

Two days ago, when she'd decided to leave Glasgow in the dust and follow her friend (a co-worker that she sort of got along with, and wouldn't mind hanging out with now and again) Mary to Leeds, everything had seemed so exciting and simple. Just hop on a bus at the Buchanan hub*, get a job somewhere, haggle her way into a bedsit, and all her past troubles would be just a memory. From what her friend had told her, Leeds was a big industrial city, just like Glasgow, but with more to do, and the promise of slightly warmer weather. Plus it put some distance between her and her mother.

And as far as Lexie was concerned further was better on that score.

But now, as she looked across the blue and yellow railings that partitioned the waiting areas for the busses, she wasn't as certain.

It wasn't any great love for Glasgow that caused her doubts.

Sure she'd always lived here, and it held lots of memories, some of them quite pleasant. And she would always be a Celtics fan**, 'til the end of her days.

But Glasgow somehow never felt like home. She'd spent most of the last 3 years in and out of rundown hostels and bedsits in Glasgow's darkest corners, and nearly 10 years of moving around from place to place with her mom before that. Rarely had she had much time to get attached.

No, something else was stirring inside of her, holding her back.

Her eyes landed on a sign. Strathspey-Inverness. Below it in small letters was the word "Glenbogle."

She suddenly felt like her heart fell into stomach.

Archie.

She'd only spent a few pleasant hours with the handsome young aristo from the Highland before they'd hopped on their respective busses and headed home. And she hadn't heard a word from him since-not surprising given her class, his encounter in the alley the other day, and a lack of a phone number to call. But, as much as Lexie hated to admit it, he'd made his impression. Never had she met such a person-willing to go out of their way to be nice to _her_, of all people, with seemingly no expectation of anything in return. "A gentleman" Lexie decided with a smile. It was a reverent term of deep admiration she'd rarely had occasion to use in the past, but one she felt fitted Archie to a tee.

Of course, that was hardly a reason to stay in Glasgow. As likely as not she'd never see him the dashing prince of the Highlands again-good things like that never lasted very long.

"Lexie?"

The girl's head whirled around.

"Archie?"

She felt herself blushing.

"What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing."

"Right," Archie said. "I'm coming back from Glenbogle, where I spent Summer Break fishing with my father Hector and our Ghillie, Golly, being lectured about health food by my sister Lizzie, and being eaten alive by midges every time I stepped outside. Now, how about you?"

Lexie looked down uncomfortably.

"I'm catching a bus to Leeds actually." She looked back up again. "Thought I'd start fresh somewhere new."

"_Leeds__?,_" Archie said with a look of feigned disgust. "You don't want to go there. "

"Oh _don't I_?"

"No!" Archie edged closer and began to whisper loudly.

"I've been to Leeds. It's dirty, wet, _ugly_..."***

An old man sitting next to Lexie turned his neck and nodded.

"That's right. I've been livin' in Leeds nigh 50 years now. Think I should know."

Lexie raised her eyebrows.

"Well, _darling_, have you got a_ better_ idea?"

Archie's eyes grew wide. He'd thought often of Lexie over the past few days, but with his time preoccupied with exams and his trip back home, a visit to The Gorbals just hadn't been in the cards.

"The West End!" he finally blurted out. "Supper in the West End."

Lexie raised her eyebrows. The West End was the trendy, bohemian college district of Glasgow. Lexie herself had never been able to afford to patronize the shops, cafes, and tiny boutiques that lined the lanes and streets of the neighborhood, but she loved the intelligent, vibrant vibe of the place.

"You know you want to. _Come on_!"

Those soft, bemused eyes held Lexie's in their grip.

Suddenly, to her surprise, and against all reason, Lexie found herself grabbing her things and bounding with Archie through the crowded hub to the line of cabs waiting outside.

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><p><em>*The Buchanan Bus Station, a ring of buildings and waiting areas around a large sort of parking lot for busses and Glasgow main bus hub, with busses to nearly any part of Scotland and the UK available there. A long stone's throw away is Queen's Street Station, one of Glasgow's major train stations.<em>

_** Lexie is referring to the Glasgow Celtics, one of the 4 professional soccer ("football") teams based in the city. This should not be confused with the Boston Celtics, an American basketball team._

***Archie is actually wrong on all 3 accounts. Leeds, a sprawling urban conurbation in Yorkshire, England, is one of the driest cities in the UK and, though it was in decline for several decades has now come back as a major financial center with pristine new buildings supplementing is old classical architecture. We can only assume that Archie visited Leeds on an uncharacteristically wet and gloomy day, thus shaping his opinion of the city.

_**To be continued...**_

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!<strong>


	5. Chapter 5

_I don't own or claim ownership of Monarch of the Glen or any of its characters, plotlines, etc., nor am I making money off of them._

_They are the wonderful creation and property of BBC Scotland and Ecosse Films._

**Feel free to let me know what you think! I love reading reviews and keep them in mind when I write=)**

* * *

><p><span><strong>Chapter 5:<strong>

Lexie scanned the broad, bustling road in front of her. Old Victorian rowhouses made out of some smooth reddish sandstone rose above a line of shops, offices, cafes and restaurants of every variety. There were trendy glass-and-steel structures with fancy lighting and expensive menus, Noisy, exotic looking Indian eateries, sandwiched between traditional-looking pubs an ancient bank, and a shiny new Chinese restaurant, with the smell of fresh paint still wafting from it. The sidewalks buzzed with activity-hip young college students, sharply dressed professionals, camera-happy tourists, and relaxed-looking locals enjoying an afternoon stroll.

"Archie, you know me too well..." Lexie said as she curiously peeked in windows of little boutiques, and breathed in the cacophony of aromas emanating from a hundred different directions.

"Oh?"

"...I love Byres Road! It's one of my favorite places in the _entire_ world." She didn't add that she'd only seen the world outside of Glasgow twice, both times when she was a little girl, and neither time outside of Scotland.

Archie smiled. "Yeah. It's almost like the whole world's here, but in a sort of bite-sized, manageable size."

'Well, almost the whole world.' Archie thought to himself. He suddenly found himself missing the peace and rustic beauty of his home. That was something Byres Road could not offer.

"I think they ought to hold a big festival with a grand parade right down the middle of the street."

"They could call it the West End Festival!" Archie rejoined. "Live music, food, games, the works!"*

Lexie laughed. "Archie, the grand visionary! I bet you could pull it off too!"

Arched waved his hand dismissively.

"I was never really cut out for that sort of thing, organizing big events, managing hundreds of people. My brother Jamie's the wonder child. Anything he puts his hand to, he excels at. I'll be happy if I can keep a rinky-dink little restaurant together."

Aroused by the smells and sights of the busy, cosmopolitan district, Lexie and Archie realized at this point that they were, in fact, both quite hungry, and so Archie led them toward their destination. They continued down the road to a little gap between buildings. Before their feet, a relatively narrow, cobblestone lane ran between little old storefronts, with strings of lights serving as a sort of continuous canopy.

"Welcome to Ashton Lane," Archie said.

Lexie's eyes sparkled with delight. Even more lovely than the excitement of Byres Road was this quaint assortment of hip cafes and tiny boutiques. She couldn't help but gawk as she admired the pristine, white-washed buildings, adorned with all sorts of hanging and potted flowers and trees.

Up ahead she noticed a particularly crowded, if unextraordinary-looking eatery, with a small sign that said "pub" sticking out of it.

As they approached, she strained to read the name written in an unusual script below the 2nd story windows.

"The Ubiquitous Chip*," Archie announced. "Our destination."

"Ah! Clever name, that one. I suppose this isn't just one of those fish-n-chips, pub-grub joints though is it?

Archie shook his head.

"No, the Ubiquitous Chip is a culinary experience-a thoroughly modern restaurant that serves traditional Scottish cuisine with a decidedly contemporary, sophisticated flair."

"Well, I like modern, and I absolutely love old Scottish food. Good choice Arch."

"I only aim to please."

As they entered and were seated by the hostess, Lexie scanned the restaurant. The interior of the place was like nothing she had ever seen. A veritable jungle of hanging and potted tropical plants grew around an aesthetically-pleasing maze of white-clothed tables, bright blue fish tanks and all sorts of bridges and passageways, with jet black floors, chairs, and walls. It was decidedly trendy, sharp, and high-class, but also exotic and eccentric. Quite a few of the patrons seemed to be people of means, and all seemed to be well-dressed.

"Ah, well, I don't know if our pocketbooks will be pleased after this visit, Lexie whispered after they had been seated.

"No fear," Archie said, flipping through the menu and pointing at one of the pages.

"The Brasserie Lunch menu is relatively affordable." He paused for a moment. "Brasserie is..."

"...the French word for 'brewery,'" Lexie finished with a smile. "In many parts of France it denotes a mini-brewery. But in UK it is more often used of small, trendy cafes and eateries, many of which do not have the capability to make their own beer."

Archie nodded, impressed.

"I paid attention in French class," Lexie explained, a bit red-faced.

Archie laughed. "I'm afraid French wasn't exactly my best subject...

"Do I hear _regret_?"

Archie grinned

"Daily. In my field a working knowledge of French is a must."

Lexie laughed.

"So, did you have one of those cranky old governesses? Or perhaps you attended Eton."

"You're not far off," Archie said with a sad smile. "When I was 5 my parents didn't want me talking and acting like all the other children in the village school-me being the laird's son and all-so they shipped me off to boarding school in Hampshire."

Lexie noticed with dismay how Archie had gone from merrily joking about French to a sort of sad recollection of distant memories.

"Sounds lonely."

She knew what it was like to feel alone, even when you were surrounded by others.

Archie shot a curious expression at Lexie. It was as if she had read his mind.

"Yes," he said. "It was."

A grim smile appeared on his face. "It sounds ridiculous, but I used to call this old phone booth out in the middle of nowhere on the estate, knowing it would keep on ringing and ringing out there in the woods. That way I could kind of feel a connection to my home, to the glen." A distant look filled Archie's eyes as he recalled the old phone booth, standing on an empty road in a remote corner of the estate. He wondered if it was still there. Most likely it had been removed by the phone company ages ago.

A sort of warm affection filled Lexie as she watched Archie. Sure, his troubles were perhaps small and minor compared to many people's-not least her own. But they made him more human, more accessible, more relatable. She wanted to reach out and give him a big hug, but she decided instead to change the subject.

"So, where did you get that scar?" she asked softly.

She pointed to a long pinkish-red mark on his right forehead.

Archie processed her question for a second, and then smiled.

"Oh, that. I got it swimming in the loch, four or five years ago."

"Which loch?"

"Our loch. Loch Glenbogle."

"You have a _loch_?"

"Yeah. A small one. Nearly fished out too, I think."

"Arch, most people don't have a loch at all!"

"No. I suppose they don't," he said, rather embarrassed. "It's easy to forget how...fortunate I am, sometimes."

Lexie smiled as she looked the handsome young man in front of her up and down. "I think we all could say that."

Presently, their waiter came to take their order.

"I'll have the Highland crowdie with the raisin, almond and Auchentoshan salsa and the smoked honey and oat wafers."

"And you ma'am?"

"I think I'll stick with the venison haggis with neeps 'n' tatties-the 'wee' size, please."**

"So you never told me more about this accident of yours."

"What accident?'

"In the loch?"

"Oh, you mean the scar. Well, it wasn't a big deal really."

Lexie gave him a look of disbelief.

"I don't think so Archie MacDonald. That scar must've taken sutures to close up, or my name's Bonnie Prince Charlie."

"I thought it was."

Lexie stuck her tongue out.

"Seriously, I just dived in the shallow part of the loch and scraped my head on some rocks on the bottom. When I came back up, I was bleeding, so Hamish our driver drove me up to the hospital in Inverness in the land rover," Archie explained, dismissively.

"Sounds like quite the adventure," Lexie teased. There was something Archie wasn't telling her-something important, perhaps-but from his evasive tone, she knew she wouldn't get it out of him.

At least not yet.

_**To be continued...**_

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><p><em>*Every year in mid-June, a highly popular West End Festival is indeed held, with live music, food, and a parade down Byres Street. Unfortunately, the tradition started in 1996, 6 years after this story takes place.<em>

_** The Ubiquitous Chip_ is a real restaurant (a local landmark, really) in Glasgow's West End. "Ubiquitous" means "ever-present", and "chip" is basically the equivalent of the American "french fry." The name sort of pokes fun at the famous mainstay of British pubs, fish and chips.__

***_These are both real items you can order on their Brasserie lunch menu. From what I understand, crowdie is a type of cheese produced in the Highlands. It often appears to be served with oat and honey wafers, with a sort of sweet salsa on the side. The latter is probably intended to be eaten with the wafers. The well-known Scottish delicacy, haggis, is a pudding (savory, not sweet) made of minced sheep's pluck (the heart, liver, and lungs of a sheep), onion, oatmeal, sheep fat ("suet"), spices, and sheep stock and encased in a sheep stomach (or sometimes a sausage casing). It's supposed to be delicious. Neeps n' tatties-potatoes ("tatties") and rutabaga (a type of turnip-hence "neeps"), are often served along side it._

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!<strong>


	6. Chapter 6

_I don't own or claim ownership of Monarch of the Glen or any of its characters, plotlines, etc., nor am I making money off of them._

_They are the wonderful creation and property of BBC Scotland and Ecosse Films._

**Feel free to let me know what you think! I love reading reviews and keep them in mind when I write=)**

* * *

><p><span><strong>Chapter 6:<strong>

_"Archie, you can't live in Glasgow without owning a Celtics or a Rangers* shirt."_

_"I'm more of a Southampton man myself.*"_

_"My wee man-we're talking Scottish football here. You have to take a side-Celtics or Rangers. No Sassenach teams allowed." _

_"You're a Rangers fan then, are you?"_

_"Until death do us part."_

_"Right then. I think this one over here is just my size." _

_"That's a Rangers shirt, Arch."_

_"You said I had to take a side."_

_"Aye, I see how it is."_

_"I'm glad we've come to an understanding."_

_"An understanding? I'm sorry, but I'm afraid you've just made a declaration of war. Archie MacDonald, I hereby renounce all ties and bonds between our persons."_

_"Don't you think that's a bit harsh?"_

_"Don't want to be seen fraternizing with the enemy do I?"_

_"Fine. More for me."_

_"More of what?"_

_"No. I don't want to tempt you."_

_"Tell me, you scrawny bampot!"_

_"It's nothing, really. It's just that I happen to know this place that sells excellent Edinburgh rock***."_

_"I'm...I'm not interested."_

_"Quite right. You must stick to your principles."_

_"Right."_

_"It is quite good though. Five scrumptious flavors..."_

_"Buchanan's**** can do as well as that."_

_"Handmade."_

_"You're making that up."_

_"Nope."_

_"Well...sacrifices must be made in wartime."_

_"It just so happens that I'm in with the..."_

_"I don't care!"_

_"..discounts..."_

_"Hmph."_

_"...fresh..."_

_"Fine! Stick with your Rangers. Let's go get us some rock, eh?"_

* * *

><p>Archie woke up groggy and somewhat stiff. He was lying on something soft and cushy. On further examination, he realized that it was his bean bag chair.<p>

That was odd.

Why would he be sleeping on that?

He drowsily glanced at the clock.

An hour and a half before class. He'd better start getting ready.

Slowly Archie pulled himself out of bed and staggered to the bathroom, and opened the door.

To his enormous surprise a young woman was standing there, wrapped in a towel and screaming at the top of her lungs.

Quickly Archie shut the door, and turned his back to it, attempting to process what he'd just seen.

"Sorry Arch," a muffled feminine voice said from behind the door. "You gave me a bit of a fright there. I should've thought to use the lock."

"Lexie...what are you doing here?"

There was silence for a moment.

"Lex?"

"Archie...don't you remember last night at all?"

Archie rubbed his eyes and tried to remember.

Slowly it came back to him.

"I remember...I dropped into the bakery...we went shopping at Barrowland...all that stuff about Rangers and Celtics...and then we got Edinburgh rock...and then...um..."

He could hear Lexie let out a low sigh.

"I was evicted..._remember_? You let me stay here..."

Archie nodded. It was all coming clear now.

"Just for the night, of course" the girl quickly added. "No funny business."

"Yes, I remember now. I had an argument with your landlord or something like that, told him to give you some slack or some such thing."

Lexie chuckled a little. "_Aye!_ You almost got in a fistfight with the man."

"Did I?"

Silence reigned for a moment, as the two recollected the incident.

"Archie..." Lexie's voice was now sad, even desperate-sounding.

"Yes?"

"Why are you doing all this?"

"You're right."

"What?"

"It is pretty silly talking through the bathroom door, isn't it?"

The door opened and a now fully-clothed Lexie peeked out. Her face was sad.

"No, I mean all..._this_, Arch. All the...wonderful, kind things you've been doing for me. I mean, I'm nothing...street scum..."

"You're not street scum Lex. Not to me."

Lexie's eyes drooped.

No, he wouldn't see her that way. Not Archie MacDonald, scion of the great Scottish family, raised to be a gentleman, respected by all around him, and sheltered from the uglier side of human existence. What would Archie think if he'd seen her pick through rubbish bins for rotten food, or shoplift cigarettes from convenience stores to try to pawn off for a few pounds? Once, freezing, hungry, and homeless, she'd even agreed to work for a local pimp, before a timely police raid had broken the operation up.

"You don't know me Arch. Not really."

"I know everything I need to know. Lexie McTavish, you are one of a kind. Intelligent, wise, strong, kind, full-of-life. You can make something out of nothing. You can pull through a tough spot with just your intuition to guide you. You're fun to hang out with, and you'd gladly give the shirt off your back for someone in need (and then crack a joke about it). You're a wonderful person Lexie, and I'm honored to be your friend. And where I come from, we believe in taking care of our friends."

Lexie rubbed her eyes in a desperate attempt to wipe away the tears that threatened to pour down her cheeks.

"Is everyone at Glenbogle this friendly?" she managed to croak out with a sad smile.

Archie grinned.

"You mean when we're not sheep-stealing or bleeding the peasants dry?"

"Aye. Or puttin' them in a stew."

They both laughed.

Archie glanced down at his watch. "I got half an hour 'til class. Better get a move on. You have free reign of the house 'til I'm back." He thought about qualifying that remark with a string of regulations, but thought better of it.

He could trust Lexie.

Archie headed to the bathroom to get a quick shower. When he emerged, dressed and ready for class, he found Lexie entranced by the small, ancient TV sitting on a dilapidated table in Archie's tiny living room. Smoke, soldiers, tanks-scenes of war-and sand, lots of sand, filled the background as a BBC newsreader narrated.

"Wonder what's going on?" Lexie said.

It struck Archie that Lexie probably hadn't seen any TV in quite some time. Certainly he'd seen no television amongst the few possessions they'd hastily gathered from her old apartment. It suddenly struck him that she was not alone. Few of the other students he knew had a TV either. He felt incredibly spoiled, and a bit guilty.

"Some little dispute in the Middle East's got everyone worked up," Archie finally said in answer to Lexie's question.  
>Lexie strained her eyes to see the TV screen.<p>

"It says something about some place called Koo-wait."

"Yeah," Archie said, "My brother Jamie-he's always big on these things-told me that a big oil-rich country called Iraq run by some crazy dictator who thinks he's rebuilding the Babylonian Empire, invaded the tiny oil-rich kingdom of Kuwait, claiming it as it's 19th province."*****

"This is _1990 _not_ 1942_. I thought countries didn't do stuff like that anymore."

"That's why people are up in arms about it. That and petrol. It'll settle down soon. No doubt President Bush will probably fly everyone to Camp David to sort it all out,

if Mrs. Thatcher hasn't already rung them up and scared the living daylights out of them."******

Suddenly in the distance, the faint toll of a bell could be heard.

"Arch, you're going to be late!" Lexie exclaimed.

Archie hesitated.

"There's some leftovers in the fridge if you..."

"Go!"

With clear reluctance, Archie grabbed his bag and headed to the door.

He stopped momentarily to glance back at Lexie, and then disappeared.

A sad smile curled on Lexie's lips.

"And haste ye back, " she muttered under her breath.

_**To be continued...**_

* * *

><p><em>*The Celtics and Rangers are the two major football soccer teams in Glasgow, and two of the top teams in Scotland. Not surprisingly, there is great rivalry between the teams. <em>

_**Archie went to boarding school in Hampshire. Southhampton is one of the major premier-level football (soccer) clubs in Hampshire, so it's logical that Archie would have developed a loyalty to the team. _

_***Edinburgh rock is a type of Scottish candy which, despite its name, actually originated in Glasgow. When you first chew it, the candy produces a light crunch, but quickly crumbles and melts in your mouth. It often comes in fruity flavors and is formed into sticks or sometimes chunks. It should not be confused with the harder "star rock" (another Scottish confection), English "rock," or crystalline "rock candy."_

_****Buchanan's is a company that mass-produces and sells Edinburgh rock._

*****_On August 2, 1990 the Iraqi military, under the infamous dictator Saddam Hussein, invaded and occupied the small nation of Kuwait, prompting international outrage and initiating the Gulf War (intervention by international coalition forces didn't happen until later, however)_

_******Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher, famously known as the 'The Iron Lady' for her aggressive foreign policy stance, was in office until November 1990. In the months before her resignation, she pushed for sanctions against Iraq, and, ultimately, military intervention._

* * *

><p><em><strong>Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think.<strong>_


	7. Chapter 7

_I don't own or claim ownership of Monarch of the Glen or any of its characters, plotlines, etc., nor am I making money off of them._

_They are the wonderful creation and property of BBC Scotland and Ecosse Films._

**Feel free to let me know what you think! I love reading reviews and keep them in mind when I write=)**

* * *

><p><span><strong>Chapter 7:<strong>

"I must tell you, Lex, I'm beginning to think poorly of Hampden Park." Archie said as he took a seat next to the girl, his hands laden with styrofoam boxes and a cupholder.

"All I could get was fish n' chips and a Coke. I mean is this Scotland or some 3rd class pub in New York?"

Lexie grinned.

"They don't allow alcohol at Scottish games. Not since the 1980 Scottish Cup riots."

Archie waved his hand dismissively. "Were they really all that bad?"

Lexie raised her eyebrows. "Well, one commentator compared them to Passchendaele*. Hundreds of Rangers and Celtic fans jumped the newly-built perimeter fences and poured onto this very field armed with wooden boards, crowbars-you name it. There were over 200 arrests."

"And all over a football match." Archie shook his head.

Lexie frowned.

"Football is more than just a game in Glasgow. It's an expression of _identity_."

"Oh?"

"Look at the Rangers fans over there. Do you see the English flag with the red hand in the center?"

"Yeah. I noticed that earlier. Are they some right-wing group or something?"

"Sort of. That's the Ulster banner, from Northern Ireland. Now look across the way. Do you see the Irish flag over there?"

"Yeah. But this is Scotland, not downtown Belfast."

"Aye, but there's alot of religious and ethnic tension here. The Emerald Isle's only a short boat trip away. There's alot of Irish Catholics in Glasgow, and they don't get along with the Ulster Loyalists and Protestant Scots in the city. Naturally the two groups rally around Glasgow's two major football teams. It's rumored that as many as 90% of Celtic fans are Catholic, while Rangers owners used to boast openly that they hired only Protestants. The competition is fierce."

"So are you Catholic?" Archie inquired. He'd always nominally been a Church of Scotland man himself, like his father, and, though he was no bigot, it struck him that he'd always associated Catholicism with foreigners, even the IRA.

"My mum's some Irish blood in 'er," Lexie said quickly.

"Your mum?," Archie inquired. "You've never mentioned your parents before."

Given Lexie's precarious circumstances he'd always assumed they were dead, or as good as.

"No," Lexie replied stiffly. She didn't want to talk about her parents, not even to Archie.

Archie noticed her reluctance immediately.

"Oh...Lex...I'm sorry if I...I didn't mean to...um..."

Lexie sighed. Why did Archie have to be so maddeningly nice all the time?

"My dad left when I was little and my mum and I fell out when I was 17."

"I'm sorry Lex."

A half-hearted smile appeared on Lexie's face.

"Don't be."

An awkward silence reigned for a moment.

"So how are you finding your new housemate?" Archie finally broke in.

Lexie grinned a little. Though Archie had made her feel more than welcome in his small apartment, they'd both agreed that it was probably best for her to find other lodging as son as possible. Archie's friend Irene Stuart, a transplanted sous chef from the Midlands, had generously offered to put her up for a pittance.

"She's real nice Arch. I thought she was a bit hoity-toity at first, what with her fancy cooking skills and her upper crust Sassenach accent, but she's growing on me."

"Good. She's lovely person when you get to know her."

"Oh?" Lexie said mischievously. "And how _did_ you get to know her?"

Archie blushed a little.

"Not how you're thinking."

Lexie chuckled.

"Aye? Dish Casanova."

"She was a friend of mine in undergrad. Excellent cook, far better than I was, had a few years experience in a real kitchen and all that. She taught me a few pointers, which you will experience the benefit of when we have our picnic at Port Glasglow on Saturday."

Lexie's eyes sparkled.

"Oh, aye?" she said with feigned disbelief.

Suddenly, people around them began standing to their feet.

Lexie's eyes grew wide.

"The Celtics are closing in for the kill!"

For a few moments all eyes were fixed on the field.

"Come on! _Come on! _There y'are!_ Yes! "_

With a swift movement, a Celtics player, his black hair streaming behind him, his face shiny with sweat, gave the ball a mighty kick.

A hush fell as the ball flew off the ground in a spray of turf. The Rangers goalie, at the far end of the goal, rocketed through the air, straining with all his might to intercept the oncoming missile.

But his efforts were in vain. The ball flew neatly into the goal and hit the netting at the back with a quiet swoosh.

The stadium erupted into a deafening roar which seemed to shake the very foundations of the building.

"_Goooooooooooal_!" screamed a massive Celtic fan as he stood to his feet, knocking over Lexie in the process.

The girl crashed into Archie's stunned form and the two fell over onto his seat.

For a moment, the two stared at each other, their faces just inches part. Suddenly, it seemed that all the noise and clamor had died down to nothing. Archie could feel his heart beat thumping loudly in his chest. For what seemed like the first time, he saw past the heavy makeup, the scanty, mismatched clothes, and those ridiculous pigtails. Since when did Lexie have such beautifully expressive eyes or such a flawless complexion? Why was he so suddenly so entranced by he glossy black hair that now hung down from her bangs across her forehead and nearly into her eyes? And what was that perfume she was wearing?

Suddenly Lexie's eyes danced.

"Trying to sneak in a snog, are we Archie MacDonald?" she said, her voice dripping with mischief.

Archie suddenly realized his hands had inadvertently wrapped around the girl in a tight, hug-like embrace.

"Oh...um...right..." Archie said as the two disentangled. "Sorry."

Lexie's eyes danced again.

"Did you try that one on Irene?"

Archie turned bright pink.

"Lex, I told you there was never anything between me and Irene. She's like 5 years older than me for goodness sakes."

"Mhmm" Lexie said doubtfully.

Archie rolled his eyes.

"Lexie, you're absolutely maddening sometimes, you know that?" he said with giant grin.

"The feeling's mutual Arch, believe me," Lexie said. Her eyes glistened with barely concealed admiration as she inched just a tiny bit closer toward him.

_**To be continued...**_

* * *

><p>* <em>Passchendaele was a particularly bloody battle fought by British forces during World War I. It's name has become synonymous with violence and slaughter.<em>

* * *

><p><em><strong>Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think.<strong>_


	8. Chapter 8

_I don't own or claim ownership of Monarch of the Glen or any of its characters, plotlines, etc., nor am I making money off of them._

_They are the wonderful creation and property of BBC Scotland and Ecosse Films._

**Feel free to let me know what you think! I love reading reviews and keep them in mind when I write=)**

* * *

><p><span><strong>Chapter 8:<strong>

Lexie was in good spirits as she stared dreamily out the bus window at the busy crowds thronging the brightly-lit streets. The football game had been a blast, the Celtics had won, and the whole city was alive with anticipation for Christmas, just over a week away. It seemed nothing could go wrong in life.

The bus turned a corner passing through Royal Exchange Square, the heart of the city centre. Across the street, Lexie observed a comical scene. In front of the Gallery of Modern Art sat an ancient, rather mundane statue of the Duke of Wellington, the well-known hero of the Napoleonic Wars, whose proud, noble likeness could be seen in many towns throughout Britain. This statue, however, had an orange traffic cone perched at a lazy slant over the Duke's head. Down below, two policemen were trying to scale the statue, in a clumsy attempt to remove the unflattering addition.*

Snickers broke out throughout the bus.

"Why do the buggers even try anymore?" cried another passenger. "They know it'll be back there first thing tomorrow."

The defacement of the statue had started a few years back-no one knew exactly when. At first it was seen as an act of vandalism and police often could be seen scaling the statue removing the cone. After several months, the police despaired and some clever intellectuals began to spin the prank as a glorious tradition, an example of Glaswegian humor and independent spirit. City officials, with an eye for a tourist scheme, had quickly adopted this line of thinking and the cone(s) were generally left undisturbed. Then, just a few months ago, the city's administration had changed hands. The new set had adopted a hard-nosed policy that once again saw the police scrambling up the statue twice a day.*

Lexie wondered how long the new policy would last. Perhaps the policemen themselves would give up, just let the thing be. But Lexie wasn't to find out, for the bus turned a corner, obscuring the scene from view, and leaving Lexie to ponder which of her three blouses she should wear to the picnic on Saturday.

* * *

><p>Irene Stuart read the short, handwritten note over for what felt like the hundredth time. No matter how many times she read it, it didn't seem to make sense, to register.<p>

Suddenly there was a loud knock on the door, startling her out of her reverie.

"Irene, it's Lex."

Irene looked at the door then the note. After a quick moment of deliberation, she grabbed the paper, threw it into the fire and walked over the door.

Greeting her in the doorway was a beaming Lexie, poorly dressed perhaps, but stunning as ever.

"Been out on the town have you?" Irene said closing the door as Lexie practically danced into the room.

"Oh, ya know, just out with Archie. Saw a football game, Rangers versus Celtics"

Lexie smiled mischievously. "Naturally my team won."

Irene's eyebrows unconsciously drew together. Archie and Lexie were perhaps the unlikeliest pair she'd ever seen. How and why did they get on so well? And...and what right did she have to have that kind of luck anyway?

"You and Archie are seeing alot of each other, aren't you?" she found herself saying, trying hard to keep a hostile edge out of her voice.

Lexie stopped taking off her winter jacket and looked at the woman, raising a mischievous eyebrow.

"Are you _jealous_?"

"_Jealous_?"

Irene laughed loudly.

Lexie seemed to relax a little. "Aye, I suppose we have been spending alot of time together." She felt blood rush to her cheeks.

Irene smiled mischievously.

"Have your eye on that one do you?"

At this point, Lexie was sure her cheeks were bright pink. Embarrassed at the suggestion, she fell back on her old flirtatious routine

"I like to keep a spatula in few different pots, if you know what I mean."

Irene ignored the act. She'd seen it before a hundred times.

"It's the castle isn't it?"

"What?"

Irene cocked her head.

"Surely you know he's got a castle...up in the Highlands...Glendale I think it's called."

Lexie evasively looked down at the floor.

"It's Glenbogle, actually. And it's owned by his fath..."

"It must be a real thrill, meeting a dashing young laird, sweeping him off his feet, moving to his beautiful, rustic estate to live out your days as a Highland princess."

Irene suppressed a pleasant sigh. Now that she mentioned it, it really did sound rather appealing.

"Archie's my best friend, Irene. We hang out together because...because he's fun to hang out with."

"You must fancy him a _little_, Lexie?"

"Well...I...I mean..."

Suddenly, inexplicably, Lexie found herself speechless. She didn't know what to say, or feel, or even think. She adored Archie, she really did. But just as a friend.  
>Right?<p>

Her mind wandered back to the incident at the game, that long stare into Archie's eyes, the warmth of his embrace. She would have made out with him then and there, if she hadn't gotten her wits about her.

Suddenly, desperate doubts creeps into the girl's mind.

Had there been more to the exchange then the excitement of the match and the proximity of an attractive male? Was she falling for Archie MacDonald? And if so, was that really something she wanted to happen?

"It's not like it's anything to be ashamed of," Irene's words finally cut in. I mean, between his good looks and the castle..."

"Archie and I are mates. That's all! I may be many things Irene, but I am _not_ a gold-digger!"

Lexie's eyes flashed with fiery anger. Quickly she ran up to her room, and slammed the door.

A grim smile appeared on Irene's face.

"You said it, dear, not me."

_**To be continued...**_

* * *

><p><em>*This tradition continues today. It is now over 30 years old, and has made the statue something of a tourist landmark. Though it appears that sometimes crackdowns do still occur, the tradition is widely accepted by large segments of the Glaswegian population, and city officials have occasionally gotten in the action, placing a special golden-colored cone on the Duke's head to celebrate the large number of Scottish athletes winning medals in the 2012 Summer Olympics (held in London).<em>

* * *

><p><em><strong>Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think.<strong>_


	9. Chapter 9

_I don't own or claim ownership of Monarch of the Glen or any of its characters, plotlines, etc., nor am I making money off of them._

_They are the wonderful creation and property of BBC Scotland and Ecosse Films._

**Feel free to let me know what you think! I love reading reviews and keep them in mind when I write=)**

**Chapter 9:**

* * *

><p>"Here you go," Archie said as he slipped Lexie her tea. The hot liquid warmed her insides as she slowly sipped it.<p>

Before them flowed the River Clyde, nearly a mile wide at this point, with breathtaking, mountains rising up on the far bank, their flanks sprinkled with snow.

"How did you like the picnic Lex?"

"Delicious, as always," Lexie said.

She gazed back out at the view.

"You know I've lived in the city all my life, and yet I never ventured up here to Port Glasgow, just a short bus ride away."

"What do you think now that you're here?"

"It's gorgeous Arch."

Archie smiled. At that moment, it suddenly came into his head that the young woman next to him in many ways complemented the stunning scenery around them, though he quickly buried these thoughts deep down inside.

Still, Lexie managed to read the affection and admiration in his eyes.

"Archie MacDonald, where would I be without you?" she said.

"Probably making good money at the bakery in Leeds," he teased.

Lexie rolled her eyes.

'But seriously,' she thought, 'where would I be?' Archie had not just taken her to see the sights and landmark of Glasgow-she could have seen those on her own. He'd reminded her that the world wasn't all backstabbing and hurt, and hard work. He had shown her what it was like to have someone care for you, to have your back, to invest time in you-and enjoy doing so. It had been years, really, since anyone had done that.

There was something about this man something special, something that was unlike any other guy she'd ever met.

Almost unconsciously, she drew closer to Archie, who gently put his arm around her.

"Lexie?" he suddenly said.

"Yes?"

"Come to Glenbogle with me."

"_What_?"

"Over the holidays."

"You don't mean that."

"Actually, I do."

Lexie pulled away from him.

Her heart was racing fast.

"Are you out of your mind Arch?"

"Probably."

What should she say? What should she do? Perhaps, Irene was right. Perhaps it wasn't Archie she was falling for at all. It was what he represented, what he could give her. Security. Affection. Adventure. A life in the highlands, in a castle, by a beautiful loch, surrounded by people who cared and without a want in the world. She might not be a professional gold-digger, but her motivations were selfish and self-serving nonetheless. Anyway, people like her didn't really belong in Archie's world. Those who tried to fit in inevitably saw their dreams crash and burn. This fairy tale dream that she had of being some kind of Highland Princess was a farce.

She sighed heavily.

"I mean...I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because you're _you_, Arch...and I'm..._ me_."

"Yes? It'd be rather odd if we were identical twins, don't you think."

"What will you're family think? What will your friends think?"

"They'll think you're very welcome."

Lexie sighed again. He just didn't understand the gulf that existed between them. He'd been born and bred amongst aristocrats all his life. He thought like they did. No doubt he felt some paternalistic affection for her, like a laird might feel for an old tenant who'd run into a bit of trouble. He would wine and dine the poor girl from Glasgow, even let her stay in his flat when she was hard on her luck. But there was a line, one that seemed to be invisible to kind-hearted, naive Archie. She had already stood on the edge of that line, and Archie was inviting her to take a giant step over it. The people at this Glenbogle place, they'd suspect something was up-and they probably wouldn't be too far from the truth.

She couldn't let that happen. She's had enough of betrayal and rejection. She wanted no more of it.

"The answer's 'no,' Arch. I'm sorry."

She began to walk away.

"Lex!?"

The girl walked for a few more steps, then stopped and turned back to face him. She was trying hard to keep the tears from pouring down her face.

"I wish you all the best, Arch," she said softly. "You've been _so, so_ kind to me. But I think it's time the two of us said goodbye."

Archie opened his mouth, then closed it again.

Lexie shot him a sad half-smile, then turned her back on him and walked away.

**_To be Continued..._**

* * *

><p><em><strong>Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think.<strong>_


	10. Chapter 10

_I don't own or claim ownership of Monarch of the Glen or any of its characters, plotlines, etc., nor am I making money off of them._

_They are the wonderful creation and property of BBC Scotland and Ecosse Films._

**Feel free to let me know what you think! I love reading reviews and keep them in mind when I write=)**

* * *

><p><span><strong>Chapter 10:<strong>

_"Lexie! What are you doing?"_

_"I'm leaving."_

_"Leaving? Why?"_

_"There's no life for me here, Irene. I need a new start."_

_"Lexie!...Lexie!"_

_"You can't do this."_

_"I've paid you rent!"_

_"No. I mean it's not that. It's just that..."_

_"What Irene?"_

_" You're running away from your problems, not solving them."_

_"Oh, aye? And what would you about that with your perfect life, and your great job, and...and...your blonde hair!"_

_"I admit I probably haven't had things as hard as you."_

_"You got that right!"_

_"But I think I do know something about running away from my problems."_

_"Do you?"_

_"Lexie that other night when I was banging on about how you and Archie weren't a good fit."_

_"You didn't 'bang on,' but yeah?"_

_"I was wrong. I was...well...angry, jealous."_

_"Jealous?"_

_"My boyfriend, just broke up with me."_

_"How long were you together?"_

_"Two years. We were...pretty serious."_

_"And you thought Archie and I had something you didn't?"_

_"Yes. It's not that I like Archie, not romantically at any rate. Not my type really. But you were so...happy..."_

_"Can you ever forgive me?"_

_"Aye. Of course I can. Actually I should thank you."_

_"Thank me?"_

_"You were right really, about Archie."_

_"Oh Lexie-I was blowing hot air, I didn't mean a word I said."_

_"Think about it Irene. Someone like me with someone like Archie. It was never going to end well."_

_"Oh Lexie, I wish I could change your mind. I fear you're doing something you'll always regret."_

_"My minds made up. I already bought the tickets. I'm off for Leeds tomorrow morning."_

* * *

><p>Suitcase in hand, Lexie squeezed into the narrow bus shelter, partially protecting herself from the deprecations of wind and rain.<p>

"Hope we're not having a repeat of the Burns' Day Storm*," an older lady whispered.

Lexie barely acknowledge the remark. It was cold, and she was wet, and she very much doubted whether the course she was taking was the right one. Irene had nearly changed her mind last night, almost convinced her to stay. She told herself that she wasn't just leaving on account of Archie, that Leeds would open up new opportunities, a whole new life. And if that didn't work out, there was Manchester, Liverpool, London-she'd love a chance to see Big Ben, or perhaps stroll around Harrods for a bit.

But somehow, all these rationales and possibilities seemed faded, disingenuous, unattractive. What she really wanted was here, in Glasgow, packing for his trip to Glenbogle.

Fortunately (or so it seemed) Lexie was not left alone with these thoughts. The long-awaited coach bus was swinging into its spot, soaking the would-be passengers along the curb as it sloshed through an unusually large puddle.

By the time Lexie had queued onto the bus, paid, found a seat, and made some attempt to dry off, the bus was moving again.

The bus seemed to creep out of the station and onto the congested roads at a snail's pace. Lexie glanced at the map in the bus brochure she picked up after buying her ticket. The route ran straight through the heart of the city, before getting on the A74**. Lexie settled back in her chair and tried to sleep. I would be a slow start, passing many of the landmarks of Glasgow. The last thing she needed was to get all sobby now at the start of her trip. Unfortunately, the noise and bustle of the crowded bus, together with the constant braking and sharp turns, conspired to keep her awake. She finally gave up and stared out the window. Past the rain droplets, she could just barely make out the form of the Gallery of Modern Art. Once again Wellington stood there, a traffic cone perched ridiculously on his head. Once again, a policeman was trying, largely in vain to remove the object.

Lexie sighed. She could relate to that policeman. She knew what it meant to be made a fool of, to be the subject of ridicule and prejuduce. She too had embarked on an endless, impossible quest for dignity, for a scrap of honor, to try escape who she was, and who her parents were and become something better, something respectable. It was not a dream. Dreams were for bairns. And Lexie McTavish was a grown-up. She had to earn respect by working hard and trusting no one. That was the only way. She would remove the ridiculous traffic cone off her head everyday, if it meant that she no longer had to endure the hurt of rejection and failure ever again.

But then something happened.

The policeman stepped on a particularly wet spot of stone. Inevitably, he slipped and tumbled to the sidewalk, arms flailing. There was cheers and applause as the policeman got back up and made an effort at brushing the dirt and wet off his uniform.

"The polis caught it that time. How does it feel, eh!?" one passenger taunted.

"Had enough, copper?" shouted another.

The policeman stared up at the traffic cone, then at the bus, then back at the traffic cone, shielding his eyes with his hand. Suddenly, a great smile appeared on his face. He tipped his cap and bowed in a gesture of honorable defeat the Duke himself would have admired, and then walked calmly away.

Lexie was astonished. What a brilliant idea! Why try to be someone she wasn't? Wy attempt the impossible?

Sure she wasn't excatly the Queen Mum, and her past hadn't been all roses and tulips-heck she couldn't pick out matching clothes (or so Archie had kindly hinted)- but that was okay. She was Lexie McTavish, and she had something to offer the world too!

Before she had given it all a second thought, she yanked the string running along the side of the window, signaling the driver to stop. Gathering up the few possessions she had taken with her, Lexie rushed off the bus and sprinted to the nearest payphone.

She inserted the coin, punched the number on the keypad and picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

"Hi Arch, this is Lex. Is it too late to tag along on that visit to Glenbogle?"

**_To be continued..._**

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><p><em>*The Burns Day Storm was one of the strongest windstorms in recorded European history, striking the British Isles and Northern Europe on January 25, 1990-which happens to be the birthday of celebrated Scottish poet Robbie Burns.<br>**Now M74. It is a fairly large highway that ultimately leads from Glasgow to London, (it appears to turn into M6 at Carlisle). It has been extensively upgraded since 1990._

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><p><em><strong>Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think.<strong>_


	11. Chapter 11

_I don't own or claim ownership of Monarch of the Glen or any of its characters, plotlines, etc., nor am I making money off of them._

_They are the wonderful creation and property of BBC Scotland and Ecosse Films._

**Feel free to let me know what you think! I love reading reviews and keep them in mind when I write=)**

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><p><span><strong>Chapter 11:<strong>

"Gosh Arch, aren't we there yet?"

"For Pete sakes Lex you're like a child. We're coming into the station right now. You can see it if you out the window."

Lexie's eyes sparkled. In a flash she was out of her seat and leaning over him to get a glimpse of their stop.

"That's my knee Lex...Lex!"

"Do you mean that wee shed there?" Lexie teased, ignoring her companion's pain. "It's a small platform. Do you think we'll be able to get off."

"I neglected to mention this earlier but the train doesn't actually stop. You sort of just have to jump off..."

A look of horror crossed Lexie's face, followed by bemusement.

"_Very funny_ your _lairdship_."

"I told you Lex, I'm not the..."

"Glenbogle Station!"

"That's us!"

Lexie reached her small, weathered suitcase, but Archie beat her to it.

"Allow me."

Lexie raised her eyebrows and smiled approvingly.

"Showing your breeding there Archie MacDonald."

Archie smiled mischievously.

"I try."

Once Archie had collected all their things, the pair exited the train. Archie glanced around a moment, then set the luggage down on the platform.

He glanced at his watch. It's not really like Hamish to be late. I hope everything's alright."

"Hamish?' Lexie asked.

"Hamish McKay, our driver. Well that's his job title anyway. He maintains all the cars and does alot of the odd jobs around the estate, now that we've had to cut our staff back a little."

Lexie's eyes were wide. "You have a chauffeur!?"

"Well it's quite a hike to the estate and our driveway alone is several kilometers long."

"Do we get to ride in a limo?"

"No, no nothing like that. Just an old Land Rover, a little worse for the wear these days."

"Oh."

Still, they had a chauffeur.

"The way it's looking right now, we won't be riding in anything at all."

"Maybe we could start walking towards the house, and you can tell me about the village," Lexie suggested.

Archie looked hesitant.

"Sure...I guess...I mean I don't think there's really anything special about it."

"Well of course you don't think it's special. You own it don't ya?"

"Actually..."

Lexie rolled her eyes.

"Let me guess, your brother..."

"Will inherit all the rights and responsibilities of my father. And thank heavens."

Archie picked up the luggage and the pair drifted away from the platform.

"You wouldn't want to be laird."

"Not in a million years. Too much responsibility. I mean, can you imagine being responsible for the fate of an entire village?"

Lexie looked around her at the quaint rows of shops, the plain, but pretty village square, the policeman leisurely enjoying a cup of tea outside the tiny community center. It was all so beautiful, so perfect, like something out of a dream.

And the MacDonalds, they were tasked with keeping this paradise going, of keeping everything in balance. They didn't own Glenbogle. Glenbogle owned them.

"No," Lexie said softly. "I don't suppose I could."

_To be continued..._

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><p><em><strong>Thanks for reading! Sorry this a short one. I promise the next one will be a bit longer. Let me know what you think! And much thanks to TheMusicKnows for their ongoing support and reviews.<strong>_


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